In Spite Of You

“You guys can’t continue like this,” Agent Raegen criticized, staring ahead at us with an agitated glance that carried a glint of frustration. “It’s not conducive, and it isn’t healthy for either one of you.” I look away, feeling my cheeks burn a light shade of red from humiliation. “I understand you both aren’t exactly fond of each other, but you have to understand that confronting each other in an environment like this isn’t professional. You’re lucky that my sanctions aren’t severe.” I can’t bear to look in his direction. His presence in my peripheral vision is enough to irritate me. I keep my hands on my lap while fighting the urge of simply scratching him with my freshly manicured nails.

Maverick was the epitome of my existence. He and I had been recruited last May and ever since then, he’s been nothing but a nuisance. We operated differently, our personalities clashed, and I couldn’t see there being any possibility of anything good coming out of the two of us working together. But for now, I bite my tongue and remain silent.

“As punishment, I will be assigning you both to work alongside each other on our latest case. And as you are both our highest ranked assassins, we have very high expectations.” My breath hitches at the mention of that, my eyes widening with her suggestion. She slides three photographs across the desk, accompanied by two separate documents. “Dmitry, Ivan and Dahlia. The three of them are part of a Russian organisation that illegally trades narcotics. I know, stereotypical, but it is indeed very real. They meet at extravagant events and sell these drugs to their customers and market their products. The task is simple: retrieve the narcotics and terminate the three of them.” Simple, she says.

We both sat there, stunned by the words that fell out of her mouth. She spins on her chair, grunting as she picks up two vacuum-sealed packages that have immediately caught our attention. “Of course, because of the status of the event, you guys need to be wearing appropriate clothing.” I swallow hard, grabbing the bag and placing it on my lap, its weight surprising me. “You are both scheduled to meet in the lobby at 8 in the evening. No earlier, no later.”

✦✦✦

Driven by curiosity, I unravel the fabric from beneath the plastic wrapping. A dress. A gorgeous one, at that. It was a sapphire gown that had small details that decorated the silked fabric. I was mesmerised by its beauty, yet intimidated by its heaviness and extravagance. I held it against my body as I studied my image in the mirror. It was off the shoulder, layered with several shades of blue that shimmered under the light and had a backless design. There was a slight opening in the dress at the side, which allowed me to tighten the garter that hugged my thigh, which also held my blade and gun.

I apply a thick layer of pinkish gloss that coats my lips, and I love the way it shimmers on the surface of my lips and how it stains a gorgeous coral-pink shade. Mascara drenched my brown lashes as I tried not to smudge it all the way down my eyelids like I always did. “You’re 55 seconds late,” Maverick hissed, leaning against a patchy white wall as he studied me with arrogance. “No, I think your watch is just 55 seconds fast.” I respond harshly, lifting the edges of my gown to prevent myself from falling. He just scoffs, ignoring my remarks and instead just begins walking out of the lobby towards the chauffeur who awaited us with impatience.

He wore a satin black suit accompanied by silver jewellery and a navy blue tie that matched the exact shade of my dress. We sat on opposite sides of the car, keeping an obvious distance between ourselves. “So…” he began, his grey eyes meeting mine for the first time this evening. “I got given the schedule for the evening,” he pulled out a small pamphlet from the inside pocket of his suit and placed it in the space between us. “There’s a dance at 8:30-”

“A dance? What is this? Prom?”

“I don’t know, but we’re just going to have to comply with what the event requires. There’s a perfect gap between 8:55 and 10 for us to confront them. They’ll probably be out waiting for some of their customers at the back. Does that sound okay with you?” I nod at every point that he pauses as the car jolts with every direction the driver carelessly turns. Dozens of expensive vehicles surrounded us as we walked through the parking lot that led us to the entrance of the gala, where several socialites were crowded together.

We walked among the throng of people who reeked of the scent of strong perfume and champagne. Inside was a large gymnasium floor with circular tables that were placed in every corner, with vibrant colours and music that played in the distance. “Put your mask on.” He demanded as he slowly dragged the material over his eyes as he spoke. I had been given a mask, but I hadn’t worn it as I hadn’t seen its significance. I sigh, reaching for the fabric from my pocket and placing it over my face just as he had. The dance began, which was followed by increased music, love songs commencing over the loudspeakers which resulted in dozens of couples to join the relatively empty dance floor.

He drags me by my wrist to the centre of the floor without any notice, his grip strong and persistent. His hand hovers over my waist while mine remains on his shoulder as we sway to the rhythm of the music. He mimics the actions of the people to our left and right. When they spin their partner, so does he, when they dip their partner, so does he. “What time is it?” I ask, trying to avoid how painfully awkward this moment was. He squints his eyes and looks beyond me at the small analogue clock that was hooked onto the wall. “I think it’s 8:40.” We still had 15 minutes of being insufferable in each other’s arms. And after this, we could focus on the actual case that was at hand. Our hands connect as he spins me around for the third time, and when he is done, his arm drops to my back to support me as he gracefully drops me down.

Within a fraction of a second, I find myself tumbling onto the ground beneath me, my back meeting the harsh gymnasium floor as my cheeks flush with embarrassment. When I look up at him, I notice the subtle smirk that tugs at his lips as he watches me struggle on the ground. He extends an arm out, feigning innocence despite being well aware of how he caused this scene. Anger burns in my chest as I take his hand, which was only extended for the sake of being perceived as heroic for display. “What are you playing at?” I say through gritted teeth, my voice harsh in comparison to his nonchalant expression. “What are you talking about? I was only trying to help you out.”

“Oh please. You don’t think I didn’t feel your hand purposefully leave my back? I’m not stupid, Maverick.”

“What can I say? Girls like you deserve to get humbled every now and again.” His breath was hot against my face, and the way he spoke told me he meant every word.

I gave him one last antagonising glare before I walked off, his face disappearing among the sea of people. People ask me why I react the way I do when they don’t notice the little subtleties that he does when no one watches. I don’t hesitate to grasp onto the complimentary champagne glasses that I seemed to consume in less than 10 seconds. I stand slouched against a pillar, attempting to distract myself from the tingling sensation of irritation that still lingers. From the corner of my eye, I notice him making his way towards me, carelessly shoving past people like it meant nothing to him.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I did out there. It was wrong, I know, but we have a mission at hand and for all we know, they could be gone, so can you just accept my apology so we can do this?” I huff, placing down my empty glass.

“Just because I accept your apology doesn’t mean I forgive you.” He smiles at that, following close behind me as I walked through the open door frame which led us outside.

The cold bites at my skin as my eyes adjust to the dark atmosphere. The sky was a charcoal coloured black that was accompanied by stars that cluttered the sky. I can hear the faint sound of footsteps that drag at the floor and a feminine voice. Without hesitation, I pulled us both down, hidden by a large trashcan that stank with a foul smell. I shifted in position ever so slightly so that I could have a view of who was standing among us. I looked down at the small crumpled photographs that were in the palm of my hand. The people who stood before us matched the image identically. “Is it?” He whispers somewhere close to my ear, to which I hummed in response.

We slowly rose, swallowing our fear as we approached them with our façade of confidence. “Can we help you?” One of the men, Dmitry, stated, his Russian accent coating his every word, his tone laced with arrogance. “Yes, you can.” I state simply, retrieving my handgun from my garter. I pointed it directly towards his head as an audible gasp could be heard. “Who the hell are you?”

I don’t respond and instead take a step closer. His once fearful expression disappears as he slowly turns his head to the right, cocking his head back as a signal to Ivan. He nods and suddenly, he has Maverick in a headlock with practiced ease. He attempts to fight back, but Ivan’s grip was like steel. I watched in horror as he struggled relentlessly, my eyes flickering from him to Dmitry.

“I suggest you put the gun down.” Dahlia states simply, her tone predatory. “That’s if you want to see your friend again.” I swallow hard. I hadn’t prepared myself to be put in a situation like this. When I don’t react instantly, he tightens his grip on Maverick as he winces with the desire for retaliation. I feel a hand pull me to the floor, my head meeting the hard cobblestone with aggression. I curse under my breath as my hold on the gun loosens. It slips from my grip and stumbles just out of my reach. Her clenched fist meets my cheek as she punches me, her pride spilling onto her face as a toothy grin.

I get back on my feet after a few seconds, the whole world spinning around me. I kick her in the abdomen, which knocks her to the ground instantly. We repeat the same moves as before; if I wasn’t on the floor, she was. I was always an inch away from the gun while she was always a second too late in retrieving it.

She breathed heavily from exhaustion, and when she was distracted enough, instead of grabbing the gun, I pulled the blade that I had also kept hidden on my garter and penetrated the sharp instrument into her chest as she gasped with shock, her eyes widening before slowly closing. As I pull out the blade, her blood spills onto my hands like water, the red pigment staining my skin. I pushed her off me as she sat in a pool of her own blood.

I hear the faint sound of rattling, and before I know it, I have a gun, my gun, pointed directly towards me. He trapped me in a corner, playing with the sleek black material of the hand gun but before he could even navigate the trigger, he toppled onto the floor. Maverick, standing behind him, used his own gun to fatally shoot Dmitry and, I assume, Ivan.

I sat there in illegitimate shock as my mind processed what I had just witnessed. I had never been so close to death before. And I would have never imagined Maverick, of all people, would be the one to save me. We sat in awkward silence before he cleared his throat. “Okay, well, we might as well start searching for the drugs then. Before anyone finds us.” I checked Dahlia’s pockets. Nothing. There was not a trace of anything on her. It was only when I noticed her small purse, where I found hundreds of dollars worth of narcotics, which were stored in small plastic bags.

I collect them all and pass them to Maverick, who stored them all together in the compartment of suit. They lay deceased on the floor, and I am truly surprised as to how no one noticed the brawl that occurred outside and the loud gunshots that ricocheted loudly. “You’re uhh..” he gestures to my lip that had been cut open. “You’re bleeding.” He almost seems unsettled by it, and his tone carries sympathy. “Oh, thanks.” I took a finger to my swollen lip, which was when I noticed how my hands were covered in dry blood that had also made its way to my dress, the red colour staining my sapphire gown.

“We should probably exit that way.” I say, stopping suddenly after noticing the small camera that was facing towards the parking lot. I pointed to the back of the building where moss covered the rocky terrain. I walk ahead first, depending on the distant light of a lamppost as my light source. My palm rubs against the rough brick material of the building while my feet squelched through the thick layer of mud that surrounded us. I breathe heavily, my claustrophobia heightening by how narrow this pathway was as we finally made it out, the icy wind relieving me. His face looks foreign to me in this lighting. His nose leaked with blood, his neck was blotched with purple bruises that looked painful.

“I, uhm, I have an anaesthetic wipe if you want. For your arm.” He pulled out a small cloth that was packaged in plastic wrapping. He gestured to the scab I had sustained that I was oblivious to as it bled profusely. “Are you sure? You’re bleeding more than me.” “I’m fine. I bring them with me all the time, I’m sure I have another one.” He insisted, his pupils dilating. I sigh, a smile forming on my pursed lips as I placed the cold material on my arm, the stinging sensation causing my face to grimace.

“You know, you’re a lot better than I thought.” He says through shallow breaths whilst wiping off the dirt that had built up on his suit. “Do you actually mean that?” I say with a hearty laugh as we escorted ourselves further away from the gala. “Why wouldn’t I?” I pause, my mouth opening despite no words leaving. “I…I don’t know. It’s just that you’ve never complimented me like that before.”

As I look at Maverick, I am beginning to see a different side to him. A softer, less angering version. Despite his remarks and my intolerance for them, I found myself staring at him with an emotion less than hate. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but all I know is that this mission of ours might have brought us closer together than I ever would have anticipated.